Page 51 of Beautiful Revenge
“Not really. More like a working vacation. I have a few days between meetings in Santa Clara, so I thought I’d make the most of it instead of spending my time flying back and forth across the country. This place is all the buzz. I was lucky to get a room at the last minute.”
“How about that. An available room,” I mutter, wondering how this guy can get a room, but I can’t. I add that to my list of things to take up with the owner.
“Hey, I usually stick to business news instead of pop culture, but didn’t I read something recently about a wedding?”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes and choose not to comment on the state of my relationship status, but I do smileand try to make light of his other comment. “I’m hardly pop culture.”
He leans back in his chair and aims a smirk at me as he hikes a brow. “Pop culture disagrees.”
“Pop culture is shit, and anyone who buys into it needs to reevaluate their life.” An English accent breaks through the afternoon breeze. Goosebumps instantly ripple over my warm skin. Damn, I’m becoming more and more in tune with that voice as the days go by.
I watch Roman tense as his glare shifts past me. Devon stalks toward us and doesn’t stop until he’s standing between me and the man I supposedly met at a charity event eons ago.
I lean into my lounge and watch Devon come to a halt next to me and cross his arms. If it’s possible, his strong, square jaw looks more chiseled than normal.
I squint into the sun. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d see you so soon. I thought you had a work emergency.”
“That issue is on hold for the time being.” Devon’s gaze drags over my bikini-clad body as a muscle in his cheek jumps. He bends to snag the sarong I tossed at the foot of my lounge and throws it over me.
“What are you—” I start, but he turns to Roman.
“Devon Donnelly. I own the place. And you are...?”
Roman stands and accepts Devon’s handshake. “Roman Malloy. You’ve got an impressive establishment. I was just telling Harlow I was lucky there was availability for a couple of nights. If I’m forced to work away from the office, I can’t imagine a more beautiful setting for it.”
“Too bad you can’t stay longer,” Devon says with about as much emotion as a semi-warm corpse. “Maybe another time.”
Roman returns Devon’s barb with a generic smile. “I’ll plan better so I can make that happen.”
Devon continues to prove he doesn’t belong in the hospitality industry and shrugs Roman off before he turns to me. “You have an appointment in fifteen minutes.”
I frown. “No, I don’t. I’m not moving from this lounge for the rest of the day.”
“You are now. The spa had a rare cancellation. I bookedyou with our most popular massage therapist. Pick anything you want. You need to get a move on, or you’ll be late.”
I’m tired of faking my feelings to make everyone feel better. I gape at my roommate. “Why did you do that?”
He shrugs. “You looked like you could use a massage.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan. “What I need is a quiet afternoon by the pool. I’m good here.”
Roman butts into our terse exchange. “You two know each other?”
“Yes,” Devon states.
“Barely,” I counter. “It seems Devon doesn’t know me at all. I don’t enjoy massages.”
Devon’s brows pinch in a scowl. “What woman doesn’t like a massage?”
I refuse to answer that question. “I prefer facials.”
“Fine,” he bites. “I can make that happen. And we have dinner reservations tonight.”
This is too much. “I’m still full from my breakfast extravaganza.”
“You still need to eat.” Devon slides his hands into his pockets. As casual as the move appears, I can tell there’s not one thing casual about the man I can’t seem to shake. “I’ve made special arrangements. It’ll be a whole experience.”
“Hold on.” Roman butts in again and looks at me. “Didn’t you get married a few days ago? Where’s your husband?”
